Looksmaxxing has me in its grip. Now I know how George Clooney

I was once a happy enough boy in a town ranged by fall-down drunks and musky geriatrics, all of whom abhorred personal hygiene as a type of space-age nonsense. If someone had bathed, you knew a morning had broken wherein they’d soon be grinning up at a magistrate trying to smell innocent.

Summary by Glance · SMH